


alligator tears

by alondra (alaundry)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Canon-Typical The Slaughter Content (The Magnus Archives), Canon-Typical The Stranger Content (The Magnus Archives), Canon-Typical Violence, Graphic Description, Latino Tim Stoker, Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), Original Statement Giver - Freeform, Roleplaying Character, Statement Fic (The Magnus Archives), The Magnus Archives Season 1, Unreliable Narrator, messy timeline, yes she's lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29700510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alaundry/pseuds/alondra
Summary: CASE NUMBER #0210128STATEMENT OF GWENEVIERE COTOVIA, REGARDING THE GRUESOME AND TRAUMATIC DEATH OF A COWORKER.
Relationships: jonmartin but only in my brain, jontim but only in my brain
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	alligator tears

**Author's Note:**

> hi! plz look at the content warnings, i'm not messing around with those LOL  
> if you've ever listened to the magnus archives and heard the typical gore that they encounter for the listener, just kind of manifest that and it's typical for this fic. this is also completely based off a tma roleplay server me n my friends created so if you don't recognize some names, that's cool! no worries 

_ CASE NUMBER #0210128 (#YYYMMDD) _

_ STATEMENT OF GWENEVIERE COTOVIA, REGARDING THE GRUESOME AND TRAUMATIC DEATH OF A COWORKER. _

**_CW: VIVID DEPICTION OF GORE, VIOLENCE, MURDER (ALSO A CLOWN DRAWING)_ **

* * *

_ [CLICK] _

**ARCHIVIST**

I’m… sorry that the first time I see you in so long has to be like this. I thought things would be better by now, though I don’t quite know what happened, yet.

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA**

I guess that’s… what I’m here for, isn’t it?

**ARCHIVIST**

_ (quiet sigh)  _ I suppose you’re right. Did you need a cup of tea or something of the sort before we begin? I’m sure Martin is around here somewhere, I can ask him to fetch it for you.

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA**

I’m fine. I went out for coffee with Reed and Atlas when I got in for work. 

**ARCHIVIST**

Reed and… Atlas… That’s… they’re, ah, in…?

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA**

HR and IT. They’ve kind of been helping me readjust to the Institute after everything. I’m surprised they didn’t bite each other’s heads off in the cafe. You don’t remember the meeting that happened before I left?

**ARCHIVIST**

I… can’t say that I do. I’m sure I was preoccupied with archival duties.

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA**

Right. Well, I can’t say you didn’t miss much. Let’s just say that they’re not on the friendliest terms, or…  _ weren’t _ . I think they’re fine now, but I’m still on my tiptoes in case Atlas decides it wants to spring on Reed and smash his nose in again. Anyway, that’s… neither here nor there.

**ARCHIVIST**

Mm.

[A BIT OF RUSTLING, PAPERS SHUFFLING AND CHAIRS SQUEAKING. HE CLEARS HIS THROAT]

Well. Statement of Gweneviere Cotovia regarding the gruesome and traumatic death of a coworker. Ready when you are.

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA (STATEMENT)**

_ (heavy sigh, then a pause) _

Okay.

So… Everything happened at the job I had before this one. I worked in kind of an office job. We were in charge of staffing people for job listings that people put up— mostly, it was individuals who had trouble finding help with stuff like construction work, maybe moving in or out, and things of the sort. A staffing place. We all worked with computers a lot and stuff. I had these coworkers, and I’d… kind of started a relationship with one of them. His name was Elijah. I’m sure if you look him up now, he’s off somewhere living his life like nothing happened. I’m sure that’s… for the best.

The relationship started off platonic, I guess. For me, it was more right from the first time we spoke, deeper, but I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter right now. Anyway, we met and got pretty close pretty quickly. He was already in a relationship with another coworker of ours, Bryce. They were having some problems in their relationship, it… it was just typical. Stupid turbulent things, nothing out of the ordinary.

But… one day, when Elijah and I were just hanging out in his office, we decided to go out for a, um… a smoke, in the courtyard. He gave me his jacket, because it was really cold, and then we just decided to head on back inside.

So… We’re back inside now, in kind of a hallway that leads back into the staffing place. Where we work. And… at the end of the hallway, Elijah sees… Bryce.

And… they’re kissing someone else.

I found out later that Elijah is polyamorous, but he’d never… they’d never discussed…  _ this _ , you know? He didn’t know it was going to happen, and he wasn’t really on good terms with the person anyway, and I’m surprised he didn’t bite its head off, and—

_ (a pause, like there’s something heavy in the air) _

That’s… that’s not important. What is important is what happened after.

Elijah was kind of torn up about it. We decided to go back to his place after spending some more time together, and one drunken thing led to another, and… well. We slept together.

**ARCHIVIST**

Slept together. As in…? Officially, please. For the record.

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA (STATEMENT)**

We had sex.

I wish we hadn’t. I mean… I don’t know. It was nice in the moment, to get out those emotions and help him do the same, but I wish it would have come differently. I wish I would have been able to look at him and feel like how I did when we had our first conversation, and how it felt to hear him laugh at a stupid joke we made up. It’s… different, when you’re not in control of your actions and neither is the other person. It’s not real.

… But anyways. Sorry.

Um… Elijah ended up telling Bryce about what happened, and they just talked. I don’t know what happened; I just heard from him that they fixed themselves up and were back together again, and that Bryce somehow didn’t… care about us? I didn’t think that was realistic. Bryce isn’t the kind of person to just react like that. The way they treated Elijah around the office, it… it seemed like he was more their property than anything else. Like a shiny, new toy that they liked to parade around and brag about, but got really possessive over. I couldn’t believe they just  _ didn’t care _ about us having sex.

But… I guess they didn’t.

The next day, I got a text message.

It was from Bryce, which kind of made my heart drop. It just read ‘Hey, Gwen, let’s have lunch.’

I deleted the message after what happened, so I can’t show it to you for proof. You’ll just have to take my word for it, believe it or not.

I answered that it was fine. They were in charge of important staffing procedures at work, so I thought of it like a work meeting since I’d recently transferred into another department. That was my first mistake. The second one was answering with a ‘Sure!’.

They were being a little cryptic back, just sending smiley faces and such, but I didn’t really think it was a problem. This was a few years ago, so I was sort of a different person. I went wherever others told me to. I was a plaything. A puppet. I guess Elijah and I weren’t so different in that regard. I believed others knew what was best for me.

We set up a time and a date. The next week’s Friday, at 2:30PM, and at their flat. It felt a little too personal to be a work meeting, but I  _ still  _ went along with it. 

The weatherman forecasted that it was going to be sunny all day. It  _ was _ sunny, when I went over to their building and knocked on their door. Right from the start, I knew that something was off. Their flat was… sort of empty? It didn’t look moved in, at all. The walls were bare, and there were maybe three, four pieces of furniture, counting the dining tables and chairs. It all looked… plastic, fake, and almost mannequin-like. It wasn’t authentic. It looked like a setup in an Ikea to advertise what human living was like.

Was supposed to be like.

There wasn’t any food on the table, or anywhere. I turned to Bryce after they let me in and asked about lunch, and they just shook their head and smiled at me. They said that they hoped we’d be able to cook something together, as a sort of bonding exercise.

I still didn’t run. I stayed.

It was a little eerie, moving into the flat and seeing everything up close. It looked like it was…  _ staged _ . We started to make a pizza-- I say “make” but we really just took it out of the package and put it into the oven for it to cook. We were waiting for it to cook, kind of standing off to the side of the kitchen, when Bryce asked me a question, and didn’t look at me while they did.

_ “How long?” _

I looked at them, confused, because… well, what the hell else was I supposed to be? I didn’t know what they were talking about; I mean, I assumed they were talking about the pizza, so I answered them. 

“Around thirty minutes. I can run down to the corner store and grab us some drinks if you want?”

Bryce shook their head, and started tapping the pizza cutter that they were holding on the marble counter. They still weren’t looking at me.

“How…  _ long _ ?”

I was even more confused, and a little scared at this point. I took a couple of steps back. “What do you mean?” I asked.

It’s… difficult to describe the difference between being stabbed and being sliced. I’ve experienced both. It’s just… different. When you’re being cut up into ribbons, it burns more. You can’t do as much to fix it, you know?

They’d been coming at me for a bit with the pizza cutter. I’ve tried to block the memory out, so I don’t quite remember for how long I was pushing them away and feeling cuts simmer below the surface on my palms. The blood was acid curling across my skin. It was pretty, but… hurt. My skin.

My fingers and palms were practically shredded at this point. I was screaming, shouting and begging for them to stop when they started attacking my stomach and chest. They had this  _ crazy  _ look in their eyes, like they could only see a slab of meat they had to tenderize and cut up. I don’t know how no neighbors heard me; my head was about to explode with how loud I was yelling.

At one point, they were off of my body. I got the strength to sit up, and… and I looked to the side, where they’d fallen down all of a sudden. Someone was on top of them, sitting on their hips. The pizza cutter had skittered off to… another place on the ground, and the person had their hands wrapped around Bryce’s throat. They were squeezing so hard that their eyes were…

_ (audible gesturing, then a wince) _

… popping out of their skull. I was terrified. I had to push myself so I could stand against the opposite wall. I was clutching my hands and I was  _ terrified _ , it felt like my intestines were about to leak out of my torso.

Bryce was choking on nothing, on flesh, slapping at the person’s face and cheeks, gripping their forearms and then their elbows, digging their thick nails into their skin. I saw them leave little crescent marks and draw blood, and the person’s blood was… blue. Periwinkle, somehow. Kind of lilac. Purple.

I saw this all happening, and-and-and… and I couldn’t say anything. I was frozen, pouring out blood and agony. I could barely stand up straight. I stared at this person and… it was…

_ (long pause) _

**ARCHIVIST**

… I’m sorry, do you need to take a break? We can… return to this later. 

_ (louder) _

Martin! Come in please!

_ [CLICK] _

* * *

_ [CLICK] _

[SNIFFLING, RUSTLING]

**MARTIN BLACKWOOD**

There we go, there. How are you feeling?

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA**

Better. The tea really helped… You’re really talented, Martin. Thank you. It’s very good.

**ARCHIVIST**

Yes, well. It’s kind of what he lives for. Can you leave us to it then, Martin?

**MARTIN BLACKWOOD**

What? Oh. Oh, right! Yes, you’re… Right. I’m sorry. I’ll… let you get back to it, then! 

[DOOR CREAK, FOOTSTEPS]

Welcome to research, by the way, Gweneviere! It’s really nice that you transferred closer to the archives. Maybe we can hang out sometime!

**ARCHIVIST**

Martin, I hardly think that’s appropriate.

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA**

It’s… just Gwen, actually. But I’d really like that, Martin. Thanks again for the tea. I’ll see you around, okay?

**MARTIN BLACKWOOD**

Right, sorry! Okay! I’ll see you around. Good luck!

[DOOR SHUTS]

**ARCHIVIST**

_ (sigh) _ Right. Well. Whenever you’re ready. Statement continues.

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA (STATEMENT)**

_ (deep breath) _ Where were we… Oh. The person. 

From what I could see, at the weird angle I was at, it… it was… me.

But it  _ wasn’t _ me. It was this weird…  _ copy _ of me. My hair was black, instead of the white it was supposed to be, and my vitiligo was different. It looked like me when I was a kid, almost, all porcelain smooth, like… like a doll.

The vitiligo on the person was shaped like… Like a clown’s face paint. If you have a napkin, I can d-draw it for you.

_ (rustling, then scribbling) _

I-It looked like this.

[ [PHOTOCOPY OF NAPKIN AS FOLLOWS]: ](https://app.photobucket.com/u/alaundry/p/3bbc8a33-30c3-43d4-a738-69c4b598172c)

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA (STATEMENT)**

They looked almost as deranged as Bryce did when they looked up at me. Their pupils were tiny, and it looked like their eyelids had been sliced off, so they were dripping blood down their cheeks, the same as my hands and stomach. They were practically throttling Bryce at this point, rearing back and slamming their throat into the ground, mumbling: “Maybe I am a monster. But they don’t know that.”

I knew Bryce was long gone, and that I was going to be next. 

I didn’t know if this person was supposed to be my savior or whatnot, but this time, I didn’t stick around to find out. I ran out of the flat, knocking on neighbors’ doors and shouting for help, for a doctor, that there was a fire,  _ anything. _

It was like I was invisible, or everyone was deaf. Everything was locked, and no one listened to me. I ran out into the streets, and I found a pharmacy. There was no staff around, but I grabbed what I could carry and sat in the middle of the building, trying to stitch myself up as best I could. It was alone for miles around, and it stayed like that until the next morning. It was raining.

I’d managed to find myself an empty hotel room, and I stayed there until I could leave to go to a hospital that actually had people inside of it.

I told them I was attacked by an animal. I guess it’s… not a complete lie. But… I can’t help but feel like that wasn’t Bryce. They didn’t deserve to die. They  _ shouldn’t _ have died. Why did they try to kill me…?

_ (short pause, then soft sigh)  _ I don’t know. I can’t answer that. It just… feels like something right up the Institute’s alley, you know? It’s kind of like the first statement I gave.

I went back to work within the month, and it was like I was never gone. Bryce was a name nobody, not even Elijah, recognized, and nobody noticed the scars on my palms and cheeks. It was like I’d never left. 

Maybe I should have stayed gone.

**ARCHIVIST**

… Is… there anything…  _ (clears throat)  _ Apologies. Is there anything you’d like to add? Or would you like to conclude it there?

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA**

N-No. No… I don’t want to add anything else. That’s… that’s it. Nobody ever mentioned Bryce again. I never went back to that apartment, and I haven’t checked up on it since. The whole thing…  _ (wry chuckle)  _ it all feels like a fever dream. I’m not sure it really happened, but… 

**ARCHIVIST**

… Ah, yes. Your hands.

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA**

Yeah. They’re the only evidence I have that anything really happened that Friday. I don’t really want to talk about it, anymore. It’s good to know it’s all out there. 

I’m… going to go see Martin about that cup of tea. Another one, I mean. I’ll… leave you to your paperwork.

**ARCHIVIST**

Hm? Oh, right. Yes. Statement ends.

_ [CLICK] _

* * *

_ [CLICK] _

**ARCHIVIST**

Well, thank you for sitting down with me and letting me record this. It’s… very compelling with other files we’ve gathered on other statement-givers. I’ll be sure to look into this one extra carefully.

**GWENEVIERE COTOVIA**

Mhm. I’d say anytime, but… that’s the last story you’ll get out of me for a while, I’m afraid. So long, Archivist. 

[FOOTSTEPS, DOOR CREAKS, SHUTS]

**ARCHIVIST**

… Oh. It’s… still running. Gweneviere’s statement aligns with many of the files that we’ve collected over the years… I see evidence of manifestations in here and in others, especially the bit about her doppelganger committing acts of atrocities. Senseless violence, duplicates of one’s self… This definitely isn’t the first time we’ve seen something like it. I just have to find those damn statements…

End recording.

_ [CLICK] _

* * *

_ [CLICK] _

[KNOCKING]

**ARCHIVIST**

Come in!

**TIMOTHY STOKER**

[DOOR CREAKS]

You called for me, boss?

**ARCHIVIST**

Yes. Have you had any luck finding those statements that went missing a couple of weeks ago? Elias will have my head if I can’t get them organized.

**TIMOTHY STOKER**

Nope! Sorry. I’ve been looking all over. I even got Sasha to pitch in, and we’ve been tossing the place upside down, but there’s nothing! I’m sure they’ll turn up soon, though, don’t worry too much about it.

**ARCHIVIST**

I don’t know why they’d disappear altogether… I couldn’t misplace that many statements from different dates, could I?

**TIMOTHY STOKER**

_ (playful snort)  _ Well, I wouldn’t put it past you. Remember how insufferable your desk was when we were both in research?

**ARCHIVIST**

_ (groan)  _ Don’t remind me. I was running on fumes most hours of the day, and couldn’t have been bothered to do well for performance reviews. I’m different now.  _ (playfully)  _ You’ve got to believe me, Tim.

**TIMOTHY STOKER**

_ (joyous laugh)  _ I’ll try, boss! I’ll try. In the meantime, I’ll keep looking for those statements. Can’t promise I’ll find ‘em, but if I do, you owe me one night at the karaoke lounge.

**ARCHIVIST**

_ (sigh) Only  _ if you promise to play  _ some  _ songs that are in a language other than Spanish.

**TIMOTHY STOKER**

You got it!

[DOOR CREAKS]

_ [CLICK] _


End file.
